Love and Art: Book II
by Blood Dark Sun
Summary: Continuation of both "Love and Art" and "Life Sketches"; day-in-the-life episodes of the characters in both those stories. Rated for language and innuendo.
1. Sleeping Putto

_I decided to start a sequel rather than write epilogues. I like where "Love and Art" ended. This chapter is the first epilogue, reposted, but this story will be ongoing for a while. Hope you enjoy!_

…

**Sleeping Putto.** (Léon Bazille Perrault, 1882)

"Ba ha ha ha!" Lovino started laughing so loudly that Arthur turned from the counter, where he'd been making a sandwich, and stared at him in disbelief. "Un-fucking-believable!" He kept howling with laughter, and as Arthur watched, actually slumped out of the kitchen chair to lie on the floor, hysterical and flapping a letter in the air.

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?"

"Ha ha! Read," Lovino wheezed, between gasps of breath, flapping the letter some more.

Arthur took it and read.

_Dear Lovino,_

_I know you will be thrilled for me, when you learn the news that Alfred and I are going to have a baby together. Perhaps now he will consent to marry me. In any case, the happy event should take place sometime in September, almost nine months to the day from your fabulous Christmas party at the winery. We're planning a late November christening._

"What?" the blond yelled. "N-N-Natalia?" He checked the signature. Yes. Then he glanced at Lovino, who had begun to settle down, but began laughing again at Arthur's outburst. Well, he'd better keep reading.

_I understand that you and your Arthur are committed to each other, and that you will most likely not be fathering a child this late in your life. Alfred and I wondered whether you would consent to be the child's godfather. I know you have a strict belief in the Catholic Church's doctrines, and would be able to raise him or her well, should anything happen to either of us._

_Please feel free to telephone me to discuss it. I would be so happy to know my baby would be safe in your capable hands._

_Regards,_

_Natalia_

"Bloody hell," he breathed, extending a hand to help the now-quiet Lovino off the floor. "Are – are you going to do it?"

"Bastard, just what the hell do you think of me? Of course not. You know what it really says?" He changed his voice to an uncanny mockery of Natalia's. "Alfred and I fucked after your Christmas party so I could get pregnant and manipulate him into marriage. You're an old fag and can't have kids, so you might want to make your position look more socially acceptable by having charge of a child. Plus you have a shit-ton of money, and my kid would be your heir.'" He changed back to his regular voice. "There's no fucking way I'm going to do this. They can get Williams and Katia to do it." He smacked the table. "In fact, they should! Dammit."

Arthur sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. "You're pretty brutal about it, though."

"But you know I'm right. That's the most transparent letter I've ever gotten in my life. Ever."

"Wh-what are you going to tell her?"

Lovino sat back down, taking the letter and laughing a little. "I'll come up with something. I've got to make it transparent enough that she knows I saw through her, but not so bald that it pisses her off. How subtle is Alfred?"

Arthur just snorted.

"Well, all right, then, he probably would take it at face value. Huh. November. Remember we talked about a Caribbean cruise this Christmas?"

"Yes. Want to go early?" Arthur laughed.

"Well…I was thinking about something else, too, but this is very timely." He tapped the letter with a fingernail. "What if we bought a little boat and sailed around the warmer areas together? For a couple months? The winery's doing well, management's in place; Gilbert and Mathias can take care of Caesar and the cats, and all that. We could get away from it all?" He gave Arthur a very nice smile.

"But you said you didn't know how to crew a boat." This was puzzling. "I certainly don't."

"Well, we'd have to spend the rest of the year learning. But we could do that. Being close to the coast I'm sure there are plenty of places to learn. We could even go live closer to the coast temporarily, while we learn, and take the pets with us. Wouldn't that be sweet?" Lovino put his chin in his hand and stared out the window. "We could call our boat the – the – oh, I don't know. The Sweet Tomato."

Arthur snorted. "Forget it. How about the Burnt Scone?"

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah, I know." He got up to finish making his sandwich. "But yeah, it sounds like fun, sailing around the Caribbean with you for a few months…alone."

"Look into it, then. I'll find out about boats; you find out about sailing lessons."

"Aye, aye, captain," Arthur said with a laugh, saluting with the bread knife.

…


	2. Low Tide, Riverside Yacht Club

**Low Tide, Riverside Yacht Club.** (Theodore Robinson, oil on canvas, 1894)

"This is the life." Lovino leaned back in his deck chair, eyes closed, and swirled his drink around, listening to the ice cubes clink on the sides of the glass. A seagull flew by somewhere, squawking, and Scuro, on Lovino's lap, lazily flicked an ear.

"You don't have to tell _me._ I could do this all year 'round." Arthur adjusted his sunglasses, putting his feet up on the railing of their boat, and leaned back to let the fading sun fall on his face. Beside him, Caesar too was resting, curled up on the polished wood deck.

"There's just one more thing that would make this perfect." The brunet opened his eyes and looked out at the sun setting over the mainland.

"What could possibly be more perfect? The weather's been perfect, it's Christmas vacation, and we're together, drinking rum and Coke in the sunset, on our beautiful boat, in the Caribbean. Seriously – what could possibly be better?" Arthur sat up straight in his surprise.

Lovino handed him the glass. "Another drink."

Hah. "Yes, master," he grumbled, resigned, and got up to mix him another drink.

"Hey, I had some news before we left and I keep forgetting to tell you. Remember the paintings you sent to Karpusi?"

"Yes?"

"Sold them all. Wants some more." Lovino stretched in the deck chair; the cat meowed at him but resettled quickly.

"Why didn't you tell me? How long have you known this?" Arthur demanded, handing him the drink. "I could have been working on them!"

"Calm down. That's why I didn't tell you. Settle down and relax; you can do some when we get back."

Arthur settled and had some more of his drink. "Wanker."

"Bastard." Lovino closed his eyes again, and they dozed together in the setting sun.

…

Later, in their little galley, Lovino booted up his laptop to see if anything important was happening. "Nope. Just an update from the albino bastard. Winery's fine, Ferrari's – what? That bastard has been driving my Ferrari?" He looked up at a nervous Arthur with a scowl.

"W-w-well, I remember you said, wh-when we were packing up your house stuff in Rome, that you were going to leave it with the factory so they could drive it once in a while. S-s-so I asked Gilbert to take it for a spin every week." He bit his lip. "Was that wrong?"

Lovino's expression softened. "Come and sit on my lap, you adorable idiot. No. It's not wrong; it's perfectly all right." He thought for a moment. "You, uh, you didn't give him the keys to the Jag, though, did you?"

"Are you kidding? No. I even buried them in my sock drawer so he wouldn't find them by accident." Arthur hesitantly sat on his lap, and Lovino pulled him close, pressing a kiss to Arthur's chest. "S-sorry," the blond repeated.

"Don't worry. It really is all right." He tilted his head back, and Arthur, who was finally beginning to relax, leaned down to kiss him. "Mm. If we're going to fool around, I want to do it on deck, under the stars."

Arthur hopped up adroitly. "Again? Okay. I'll go get a blanket."

Lovino snorted. "Hurry up, eager bastard. I'll shut Caesar in the cabin so he doesn't interrupt." Their dog still had no concept of privacy; at home, if they left him uncrated, he continually jumped up on the bed with them, and sometimes in the middle of very personal activities. Lovino had insisted on shutting him into the cabin whenever they wanted to play. And Arthur had certainly agreed.

…

"Good thing the weather's so warm."

"Yep. This is absolutely perfect. I don't even mind that we ended up calling this boat the Sweet Tomato."

"Idiot. I wasn't about to call it the Burnt Scone, you know. No matter how much I love you."

"Git. You always get your own way."

Lovino poked him. "That's so not true. Name once."

"Kirkland-Vargas Winery?"

"Well, all right," he admitted. "But that's only one other time."

"There are probably a lot more I can't think of offhand. You know you're the most spoiled wanker in America."

The brunet thought about this. "Probably," he then admitted, pulling Arthur closer for a hug, "but then, what's really wrong with that?"

"Mm. Nothing, I guess. As long as what you want, is me."

"Bastard. You know that will never change." Lovino kissed him. "It's getting cold out here. Want to go in to the bed?"

"Sure." Arthur rose and gathered up the blanket.

When they opened the door, Caesar and the cats were on the bed. "Dammit."

"Eh. Shove them aside. I don't mind if they want to share the bed. I'm too tired to fool around anymore."

"You have no stamina, Arthur. We'll have to do something about that."

"Not tonight."

"No. Not tonight." Lovino lifted Luce out of the way and put her at the foot of the bed before slipping under the covers. "Don't forget we're going into Nassau tomorrow."

"I won't forget. I'm looking forward to that pirate museum." Arthur grinned. "You know the British were the most fearsome pirates."

"I know, bastard. We'll go see your fucking pirates. Don't worry."

Arthur finally got Caesar into a better position and climbed into the bed. "Good night, all."

The only one who answered was Lovino. "Good night, sweet thing."

They kissed one last time and then curled up around the pets to go to sleep.

…

_Ah, I couldn't stand the idea of the poor pets being left behind, so I changed the second epilogue chapter to include them. Also, since this story is now ongoing, I fleshed out the chapter a little more._


	3. Pirate Ship

_I wasn't planning to do another chapter so soon but we went to breakfast at the diner and there was a cute waiter who reminded me of Arthur._

…

**Pirate Ship.** (Ambroise-Louis Garneray, oil on canvas, year unknown)

Arthur held Caesar's leash as they walked down the gangway; Lovino gave the boat a once-over and followed. "Now, listen, Caesar," Arthur admonished. "Today we're dropping you at a groomer's while we go to the pirate museum. Understood?"

Caesar did not respond, except to investigate a fire hydrant. Lovino snorted. "When are you going to give up talking to him like he can understand you?"

The dog turned and looked at Lovino reproachfully – or so it seemed – making the friends burst into laughter. "All right, all right," Lovino said, bending down to poke him. "You're the smartest dog ever."

Caesar ignored him. "Anyway," Arthur said, "I'm really happy the cats are behaving well when we leave them on the boat. I worried they'd run away."

"Bastard, those cats have the cushiest life of any cat, anywhere, in the entire history of cats. They're not going to run away." Lovino, who acted like a doting parent with them, fed them fresh fish each day, which he chopped up by hand and added fresh healthful herbs to, crooning to them in Italian the whole time he prepared it. He'd even gotten them special handblown Murano glass food bowls to eat from. Arthur was convinced that handblown glass on a boat was a recipe for disaster, but so far it had been all right.

"I guess not. Anyway, let's get this beast to the groomer's."

They dropped Caesar with promises to be back in a few hours – there was a dog day care on site for him to play in, if he was finished before they got back – and headed to the museum. "Why are you so interested in pirates, anyway?" Lovino wondered.

"Eh, why not? It's a whole different era. Pre-technology, all that? Wouldn't I make a good pirate?" He struck a pose, legs spread, hands on hips, and Lovino laughed at him.

"Bastard, whatever you do, you make a good one. Come on."

…

Later they collected Caesar, who looked beautiful. "That won't last long, matey," Arthur said, scratching his ears. He'd been speaking like a pirate all day today. Lovino was a little sick of it, but figured he'd let Arthur have his way with this until bedtime. If he hadn't shut up with it by then, Lovino would _make_ him shut up.

"Come on. Let's get some dinner and get back to the boat."

They dined at a little café with outdoor seating. "I love you," Arthur sighed happily, as he sipped his Painkiller.

Lovino snorted. "Because we get to loaf around the Caribbean getting bombed all the time? I love you too, stupid. Now, shut up and eat."

"Aye, aye, Captain Vargas."

Caesar barked to underscore his words, and Lovino laughed, feeding the dog a little piece of meat.

…

When they got back to the marina, the sun was setting, but it was still bright enough to see. There was a large crowd of people standing around laughing, near the Sweet Tomato. "Dammit. I hate crowds. Let's just push through them and try to ignore them."

"Fine."

As they approached the group, a raucous burst of laughter erupted. "Hey! Those are the two guys!" A man they'd noticed this morning pointed to them.

"Uh-oh," Arthur said, but the people all turned with bright smiles and laughter.

"What the fuck's going on?" Lovino barked, and Caesar barked too.

"You have some awesome cats," the first guy said. "We've been watching them for hours! You should charge admission!"

This was the kind of stupid crowd comment Lovino really hated, because it gave him no information at all. He drew breath to speak but Arthur beat him to it. "What have they been doing?" he asked politely, with a small smile.

"Come and see!" The crowd parted and hands gestured them towards their gangway. Lovino went first – to get away from the idiot crowd – and Arthur followed with the dog.

"What the _fuck?_" he yelled. Strewn on the boat's deck were the mutilated carcasses of several seagulls, and – dammit, were those _rats_? Lovino almost threw up.

"They've been catching 'em all day and bringing them back," a lady laughed. "I was going to go into town but I got my deck chair out to watch, because it was so fun."

Arthur stood in horror. "Holy shit," he whispered. "This is going to be a pain in the arse to clean up."

"Where are the damn cats?" Lovino wondered.

"Oh, the dark one just went off hunting again," someone said, gesturing vaguely towards the marina buildings. "Don't know what happened to the ginger one."

"Here she is!" someone yelled, as Luce padded out on deck and meowed at her protector.

"You – you – Luce, what the hell have you been doing?" Lovino wondered, hunkering down to pet her.

"Don't talk to her like she can understand English," Arthur hissed sarcastically, and then started laughing.

"This is going to take a shitload of cleaning, though," Lovino realized. "Where do we keep the rubber gloves?"

Arthur lashed Caesar's leash to the railing – he'd been straining to go investigate the bloody messes on deck – and headed below. "I'll bring them out, and the bucket."

"I don't mind helping," the deck chair lady said. "They really are entertaining pets."

"Thanks," Lovino told her absently, still trying to comprehend how Scuro and Luce could have taken down all these birds and rodents in one afternoon.

"Don't suppose you'd sell them?" someone asked.

"Fuck, no!" he yelled, before remembering his manners. "I mean – I mean, no, I don't want to sell them." Shit, his face was red, so he rubbed his hand over it, before realizing the crowd was laughing again.

"No kidding. I wouldn't sell them, either," the guy agreed.

"Hey, Fred! Bring some trash bags and bleach!" someone called out, as Arthur returned with rubber gloves and a bucket.

Soon the Sweet Tomato was swarming with friendly boat owners who had enjoyed the "show" this afternoon. Caesar was below, in the cabin, and Scuro had come back with a giant dead rat in his mouth, which he laid at Lovino's feet, causing much merriment.

_"__Più piccoli, vado a dare un sacco di delizie per il vostro duro lavoro stasera,"_ he whispered to them, loud enough for Arthur to hear and understand_._

Soon the deck was clean of gore, sluiced down with water and bleach, and mostly dry. "Thank you," Lovino told the others. "It was very nice of you to help out." He reached for his wallet but saw Arthur shaking his head _no._ So he extended a hand to the nearest person and shook it.

"Like we said," the deck chair lady laughed, "a hell of a show. Are you in the area long?"

"Casting off tomorrow," he told her. They'd decided to head towards Florida.

"Bon voyage!" everyone called, leaving the boat; the deck chair lady scratched Scuro under his tufty chin with a giggle before departing.

"Fucking bizarre day," Lovino muttered, when they were all out of earshot.

"Nice people, though. Made the cleanup go really fast."

"I know. I – think I have to start unbending, a little."

Arthur laughed loud and long, wrapping his arms around Lovino in the near-darkness. "No question of that, Captain Vargas," he chuckled. "Come on. Let's go give the little ones their snacks."

Once they were below, Lovino grabbed Arthur and kissed him fiercely. "You're the best first mate there ever was," he laughed. "Go get Caesar. We can have a picnic on deck."

"Yes, sir." Arthur headed to the cabin; Lovino to the galley, and eventually the family was assembled with cold sandwiches, fresh fish, steak, and wine, under the stars.

...

_Più piccoli, vado a dare un sacco di delizie per il vostro duro lavoro stasera = Little ones, I'm going to give you lots of treats for your hard work tonight. _

_At least that is what the translator tells me._

_10/10: I'm somewhat regretting starting this story. I have no real ideas for them, and I feel like L&A ended at just the right point. I'm going to put this on hiatus for a month or so, and if nothing more occurs to me, I might just delete it. It seems very silly to have a three-chapter story up, especially as a sequel to one as long as L&A was. Thanks for bearing with me._


	4. March

**March.** (Charles Burchfield, watercolor, 1923-28)

"Now what the fuck?" Lovino grumbled, pulling into their driveway. The trees flanking the road were festooned with balloons and flower garlands, and a giant handmade "Welcome Home" banner stretched across the gap above the road. "That idiot albino. I'm not in the mood for any stupid party. Doesn't he understand that?"

But Arthur laughed at him. "Don't worry. It's just them and Fritz."

"What? How the hell did you know?"

"I called him to touch base, and he asked if it would be all right. So calm down, all right?" Arthur ruffled the dark hair, earning himself a scowl, but then Lovino appeared to relax. "We do need to talk to them, see how things went, and all that." They were on the way home from the cruise, Caesar and the cats in the back of the truck, and the Virginia weather was crisp and cool with just a promise of spring in the air.

Lovino had insisted on driving them from the Maryland docks, where the Sweet Tomato was temporarily in dry dock. He pulled into the driveway and they heard a loud twanging sound. "What the hell?" Caesar's barking became frantic and Lovino cut the engine.

Gilbert and Mathias were on the front porch of the house, and the albino was strumming an electric guitar and leaping around. "Kesesese! Welcome home!"

A laughing Mathias came down to the truck to help with the animal carriers. Between the guitar sounds and the barking, Arthur felt like his head was going to split. "Gilbert, stop playing that thing!" he yelled, trying to wrestle the dog out of the car.

Gilbert obligingly stopped and ran down the steps to hug Lovino (who grunted and pushed him away) and grab suitcases. Arthur let Caesar off his leash and he ran madly over to Fritz, sniffing him, before they both barked and ran off.

Mathias had a cat crate in each hand. "Where do you want these?" he asked.

"Up in the cat room, I think," Lovino told him. "It might overwhelm them to have run of the whole house."

"I don't know where your cat room is."

"I'll show you, bastard." Together they went inside and Gilbert and Arthur finally exchanged a hug.

"You guys had an awesome time, didn't you? We did too. We had some winery activities that the manager liked, and got a ton of new customers on the mailing lists and all that."

"Good for you, git. Thanks. I'm glad we had you to watch over things while we were away. Help me with these bloody suitcases."

They wrangled the luggage into the front room and dropped it. "Glad to be back?"

Arthur considered this. "Well, I will be, I'm sure. Right now I'm still kind of dazed. Probably a good night's sleep and I'll be fine. I am definitely looking forward to sleeping in a bed that doesn't roll and pitch every minute!"

They laughed together; Mathias and Lovino came back. "That's all done, bastards." Arthur hugged the Dane in welcome.

"So tell us all about it! Was it totally awesome?"

"Totally," both Lovino and Arthur snorted, and their friends burst out laughing.

"Well, come outside and listen to my awesome guitar playing. I've been taking lessons for a few months."

They trooped outside where the new arrivals collapsed into porch chairs. Gilbert dutifully played a few songs, then twanged a bit more, until Lovino reached over and pulled the plug on the amp. "Quit it, bastard. My head hurts."

"Sounded good, though," Arthur put in, mostly to forestall an argument. "What made you decide to take lessons?"

"Just looking for a new hobby. I always wanted to play, but in my condo it wasn't appropriate."

"I-it was pretty good," Lovino told him, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Kesesesese!"

The brunet lashed out with a weak punch. "So tell us about what's been going on at the winery. Any shit worth panicking about?"

"Nope. All awesomely business as usual." Their friends took turns explaining the few things out of the ordinary that had occurred, while Lovino nodded sagely, asking pertinent questions, and Arthur fidgeted in his chair.

"I have a favor to ask," Mathias then said.

"Sure. If I can do it, I will." Lovino turned to him.

"I want to plant a few acres of vines at our place. I've been studying up on varietals and blends, and I want to plant some vines that are rare to Virginia and see what kind of wine we can get out of them. But I don't want to try winemaking from a kit; that seems like a recipe for cheap wine. I'd like to be able to use the facility here to process it and see if we can come up with something good."

By the time Mathias had finished speaking, Lovino's face was thoughtful. "Is this a marketing thing?" he wondered, turning to Gilbert.

"No. Just something that interested me," Mathias replied. "I'm really getting into all the winemaking aspect of things."

"Then sure, I don't mind. We can work something out. I don't mind giving you a few acres here to experiment with, either. We've got about twenty acres suitable for planting that are standing bare."

"Awesome! If it works out you could sell it. 'Mathias' Special Reserve,' or something like that."

"Not that," Mathias laughed. "I don't want my name on the label."

Arthur certainly understood how that felt.

The friends chatted for a little while longer – Caesar and Fritz by now snoozing on the lawn – and then Mathias motioned to Gilbert. "Come on, pack up your axe and let's get going."

"Axe? What axe?" Lovino looked around frantically.

"Kesesese! It's a term for an electric guitar." The albino got up and began packing up his things.

"Are you going to take the balloons and things down, or should we do it?" Arthur wondered.

"Oh, we'll do it on the way out. I brought a BB gun, so I can shoot all the balloons."

"You idiot. Just make sure you don't leave popped balloons hanging in the trees."

"Are you kidding? I'm no litterbug. We set it up so we just have to pull one string and everything will come down." Gilbert ruffled Lovino's hair and the brunet kicked him. "Ow. All right. Well, welcome home, and call us if you need anything. We did a little grocery shopping for you, but not much."

Arthur hugged them both. "Thanks. You guys are great."

"We know, we know!"

He and Lovino waved as their friends departed. "Whew."

"You're telling me, bastard. Come on, Caesar. Let's go inside and relax."

"Woof!"

…

_Since I've spent so much time between updates I thought about the best way to go with this. Remember when I said that if I'd thought of it, "Love and Art" and "Life Sketches" would have been one big story? Well, since they're both closed out, this Book II is going to be a mix of both of them continuing. I'm not really certain there's enough plot to make this entirely focused on Lovi and Arthur (or even adding Gil and Mathias), but if I mix in all the Life Sketches characters it will be a bit more worthwhile to write and to read. So, there will be some chapters with no Arthur and Lovino, but featuring the other characters. Stay tuned._


	5. Washington Crossing the Delaware

**Washington Crossing the Delaware.** (Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze, oil on canvas, 1851)

Lovino decided to stroll past the gallery for old times' sake. He and Arthur had come to town today to run various errands, and they'd be meeting up for dinner, but Lovino had finished everything he needed to do, and had some time to kill.

Halfway there he spotted the dumb blond bastard – Alfred – sauntering down the street. Well, he might as well say hello. He snorted as he thought about him and Natalia trying to raise a child. Hah.

"Hey, bastard," he said, approaching Alfred.

"Lovino! Hi! Wow, haven't seen you in a long time. How are you? How's the winery, and everyone?" They shook hands.

"We're all fine," he sighed. Dammit, this exuberance was almost as bad as the stupid albino's. "How's Natalia? And – and the baby?" he managed to ask without laughing.

"What? Oh, the baby's not due for another month."

_"What?" _Lovino yelled. That couldn't be right. It was already April. Natalia should have had the baby almost six months ago.

"Well, yeah? I mean, Mattie's proud as hell, and he's treating Katia like a queen, but it's nowhere near being born yet."

"Oh! Katia's pregnant? I had no idea. No, I was talking about your baby, stupid. Natalia's baby."

The blood drained from Alfred's face so fast that Lovino wondered whether he might faint. "Na-Na-Natalia's having a _baby_? _My _baby?"

"Bastard, what the hell's the matter with you? She told me last year! Maybe a year ago?" This was strange. Lovino took his arm and led him to the wall of the nearest building so he could lean against it.

"W-we broke up last spring," Alfred stammered. "Sh-she moved to New York City. She was _pregnant_?" he wondered. "Oh, my God. I have to go find her. If she was having my – my baby, and she's all alone, without a strong arm to protect her –"

Hah. Now Lovino understood what Arthur meant, when he talked about Alfred's stupid hero complex. "You seriously didn't know this?"

"No, man! She said she was tired of sitting around waiting for me to make up my mind about stuff, and she was going to move away." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "A-at the time I thought it was the best decision. I still didn't want to marry her, and she kept pestering me about it. But – but if she's having my _baby –"_

"She must have had it already," Lovino pointed out. "She told me she'd gotten pregnant that night after my Christmas party, and that's well over a year ago."

"She told you? Why did she tell you and not me? I mean, unless – I mean, I know you and she – if you've hurt Arthur, I'll –"

"Don't be a dick. I haven't been with Natalia in five or more years. I – I would never hurt Arthur." He blushed and rubbed his hand over his face. He didn't really want to twist the knife in the bastard's side, but he did think Alfred needed to know as much as he could about the situation, so he said, "She wrote me a letter asking me to be his godfather."

But the blond ignored this. "I've got to go see her. Them." Alfred looked around wildly, as though considering flagging down a cab to drive him the two-hundred-plus miles to the Big Apple.

"Calm down, bastard. What if she's involved with someone else by now?" Another point that seemed eminently reasonable to the Italian.

"Then I don't want some stranger raising my baby! I can bring him back here" – Lovino snorted at Alfred's assumption that the baby was a boy – "and he can grow up with Mattie's baby. I really have to go."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No, but I'll find her!" Alfred yelled, and he did wave for a cab. "Uh – you're not shitting me, are you, dude?" he asked, just before he climbed in.

"I wouldn't do that. Not when a child is involved, bastard. Go find her and – and good luck."

"Thanks, man! I'll be in touch!"

Lovino stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab drive away. Dammit, he hoped the bastard would be able to straighten his life out. For the sake of the kid, if nothing else.

As he headed towards his rendezvous with Arthur, his thoughts alternated between thankful prayers that he'd never been seriously caught in Natalia's coils, and what Alfred would do when he met up with her.

In the end he stopped by a shop to buy a card of congratulations for Williams and Katia, and hurried to dinner with Arthur. Eventually he'd find out what had happened, he supposed.

…


	6. The Mona Lisa

**The Mona Lisa.** (Leonardo da Vinci, oil on poplar wood, 1519)

Alfred sat on the train biting his nails.

How stupid he was. He'd taken a cab to Union Station and jumped on the first train to New York.

But he didn't have Natalia's address, and he had no luggage. He hadn't told anyone he was leaving town. What an idiot! He pulled out his phone and hoped he could get reception while the train was on the move. He'd call Mattie; he'd be able to get Natalia's address and tell him where he was going.

His twin worked from home now. He and Katia had bought a newer home, much larger than the old one, to house their growing family, and Matt had appropriated the den to be his office. But Katia answered. Alfred didn't want to get into a big discussion about the baby, so he simply asked for Natalia's address.

"You're going after her? You're a brave man, Alfred!" she laughed.

How could she be so lighthearted about this? He scribbled the address on a dollar bill, telling her he'd be out of town for a few days, and hung up. Mattie was bound to get pissed at this, if Katia told him, because he hadn't been very gentlemanly, but Alfred was in a total state of confusion and didn't give a damn. He could sort his brother and Katia out later.

Here he realized the young Asian girl in the seat next to him was watching him warily. "Sorry. Was I freaking out? I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I've got real problems."

"Don't we all," she laughed.

Hmm. She didn't really seem scared. Might as well chat a while. "Heading to New York on business?"

"Going for a job interview. You?"

"I'm going to chase down an old – old girlfriend of mine." He supposed that was the best way to describe Natalia. "The mother of my child" sounded really redneck.

"Miss her, huh?" The girl nodded. "Sometimes life's like that. The best ones get away."

Alfred nodded his agreement, but stopped to consider whether Natalia really was the best one. No. He'd still rank Ivan over her. Right up until the day Ivan had left, Alfred would have called the Russian the love of his life. But that manner of breaking up had been just too brutal. No, even if Ivan came back begging him on bended knee, Alfred wouldn't go back to him. Oh, he'd string him along, and humiliate him in the end, but -

Damn! He caught himself growling and pounding his fists on his knees. "Sorry. Did it again." She didn't look convinced, but the train ride would be long, so he'd try to put her at ease. "My name's Alfred," he smiled, extending a hand.

She shook it somewhat gingerly. "I'm Liên."

She'd mentioned a job interview; that was a fairly innocuous topic. It would take Alfred's mind off his troubles temporarily, and kill some time. "Job interview? What is it you do?"

"I'm a proofreader and editor. I'm going to interview with a publishing house up there. Washington's just too boring for me."

"Hah! Try living in Paradise, California, for a while," he snorted. "Lamest town I ever lived in."

"But it sounds nice."

"Nice, if you like sleepy little towns. I couldn't wait to get back to the District."

"What do you do? For a living, I mean?" she asked.

Now, Alfred had never had any problem telling someone he was a layabout. Hell, that's probably what had attracted damn Ivan to him in the first place. That and his striking good looks. Alfred grinned. But he felt very vulnerable right now, chasing Natalia down and unsure of his reception, so he didn't want to get into that. "Investments," he said, which was not strictly a lie, and he hoped that would stop that line of conversation. "How does someone become a proofreader?" he wondered instead.

Liên told him about her lifelong love of reading, how picking up grammar and spelling had come almost naturally to her. She'd gone to college, majored in English, which hadn't done much for her in the job market. While working at a Starbucks, one of her coworkers had suggested she look into publishing. She had, and had never looked back.

"But it really is boring in the District. I love New York. Or LA, or Vegas. But there's not much in the way of publishing houses out there."

"Well," Alfred considered, "you could do copywriting for an advertising firm, or something like that. Write screenplays!" That'd be cool. Maybe he should try that, sometime when he was bored.

"Maybe. But right now I'm not ready to branch out into a semi-new career and also change cities. One step at a time."

He agreed.

"So why did your girlfriend leave you?"

Hah. Why not? He'd pour out the whole story. Maybe she could help him figure out a way to approach Natalia that would work. Because he _was_ going to bring their baby back to Washington. He was! Even if Natalia herself refused to come with them. There had to be a way to convince her.

As the train clicked quietly along on its rails, stopping periodically, he recounted how they'd met, his subsequent sexual confusion, their tempestuous relationship, and her departure last year. "But I just found out she was pregnant when she moved away, and so I'm heroically going there to make sure she's all right, see the baby, bring them back to Washington."

"What if she doesn't want to go back with you?"

This was just the kind of thing Alfred had been hoping to hear. Sane, calm talk about his options. "I hope she'd let me bring our baby back and raise him. I – I can give him a pretty good life," he waffled, on the one hand not wanting to talk about money, and on the other hand, realizing that Natalia's income far exceeded his own (such as it was). Saddened by this, he clasped his hands together in his lap and kept his eyes on them. Why _didn't_ he love Natalia? She could make his life so much easier, with that money!

"New York isn't the best place to raise a child," Liên agreed.

Good. That was another good point for the argument he was sure he and Natalia would have. Alfred filed that comment away for later. "I know. But she's stubborn. And the baby must be near a year old by now. She might have settled down so much that she's not willing to discuss it. You know. If she has a good nanny, or something."

"Whoa. A nanny? This Natalia in investments, too? Sounds rich."

"She is rich. She was married to some old rich guy and he croaked. That was before we started dating, of course," he clarified.

Liên thought about this. "Why do you suppose she was interested in you? Sorry, that sounds really harsh. I mean, at first. You said you are – were – gay, right, and yet she wanted to go out with you? Why did you go out with her?"

Alfred smiled wryly. "I guess I don't look or act so gay. She didn't know it until after our first date. And – and I'd never been with a woman before, so it was an adventure. But, wow, it was really exciting! And we had so much fun together, before she suddenly decided she 'wanted me.' For good. She kept proposing and I kept turning her down, and I thought she went off to New York because she was sick of me turning her down. But…maybe she was embarrassed about the baby. About slipping up and getting pregnant. She'd always said she was on the pill, so I never – uh – took any preventative measures." He blushed a little.

"This sounds like a really weird relationship."

"Well, isn't every relationship weird, in its own special way?" Certainly his relationship with Ivan had been. And even with Artie! He felt a brief wave of longing for the sweet, shy man Arthur had been when they'd first met, but…Arthur wasn't like that anymore. He was strong, and secure. Not needy or sappy.

Well. Not when Alfred was around, anyway. Pfft. Who knew what he was like now, when he and Lovino were alone?

"I don't know," Liên was saying. "I haven't been in a real relationship yet. I dated some boys in high school and college, but they weren't mature enough to date long-term. Probably I wasn't either." She laughed a little. "How does a person ever know they're 'mature enough'?" she now wondered.

"Who the hell knows." Alfred sank back into the seat. "I just hope I can come up with some good arguments to convince Natalia to come home with me and the baby. I mean, if she really did love me, back when we were together, then I should marry her! Right?"

Liên considered this. "I…don't think so. I mean, no matter how good your intentions are, if you marry her because she wants to, and not because you love her, then someday there's going to be trouble. It might not be for a few years, but what's going to happen to the kid, when you and she decide it was all a big mistake?" Her serious face turned away from him for a moment. When she looked back, her eyes were sad. "Parents never consider the child, when the marriage goes off the rails."

"Your parents divorced?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "A bad one. I was already in college when they decided to split up, but it was bad, and I had to hear about it every day. One or the other of them would phone me up and try to enlist me in their cause. I hated being pulled apart that way. To this day my mother still badmouths my dad all the time." Her voice softened. "I don't even see how two people can end up that way. They must have loved each other at some point, right?"

"Unless they were marrying for other reasons."

"Like you and this Natalia?"

"That's a very good point," Alfred agreed. He thought briefly of his parents, now living in harmony in Canada, supported by Matthew's maple farms, and was happy they'd always stayed together. He hoped Mattie and Katia would always stay together, too.

But that just made him sad that his own love life was such a shambles. He tried to picture himself with Natalia and their baby (whose gender he still didn't even know, damn it!), living an idyllic life in the Virginia countryside. Nope. No way. He couldn't deal with that, and he knew Natalia couldn't either. Well, shit, he'd figure something out eventually. If Natalia was willing to talk, they could work something out.

A long while later he realized he'd completely dropped the conversation, but a quick apologetic peek at Liên showed that she'd fallen asleep at some point. She'd made some very valid points. He sat back to consider them all again, to recap his argument for Natalia to come back to the District, and to – well – work up his nerve.

Natalia could be so terrifying, when she chose.

…

_Special thanks to KissMyTearsAway (formerly Emo Dreamer) who helped with Vietnam's character._


	7. Sunday in Town

**Sunday in Town.** (Konstantin Rodko, oil on canvas, 20th century [actual year unknown])

Alfred took a few moments at the corner of Natalia's street to catch his breath, to examine his reflection in a car window and make sure he looked good, to plan his argument yet again. He knew Natalia was likely to be fierce, but that poor child had a right to grow up knowing his father.

"Oh, my _God,_" he suddenly realized. What if this baby wasn't his?

He sat right down on a doorstep, freaking out again. That would completely explain why Natalia hadn't told him about it, and why she'd run off to New York to raise it! "Jesus, what a bitch," he said aloud. That was so totally Natalia!

But, no. She'd told Lovino that it was Alfred's.

No, no, no, she could still have been lying to Lovino. Pfft. Of course she would lie to Lovino. If she wanted him to be the baby's godfather, she'd make up any old shit just to get his money. She must have thought he'd have a soft spot for Alfred's child.

Which, really, was an asinine conclusion for her to have drawn.

Well, all this sitting around wasn't getting him anywhere. Time to heroically take the bull by the horns and rescue his (?) child.

Alfred rose, dusting off the seat of his pants, and stalked the rest of the way towards Natalia's front door, trying to work himself into anger to support his side of the argument. He rang the doorbell.

Ah, but if this child was his, it would be way too adorable! He wouldn't be able to stay angry. And – and he wouldn't want to even start out angry, in front of a baby. He bit his lip, trying to settle his nerves, and a bare-chested young man with strawberry-blond hair answered the door. An extremely handsome young man, whose eyes were almost as red as Gilbert's. "Don't you see the No Soliciting sign?" he snapped rudely, attempting to shut the door in Alfred's face.

But Alfred was quicker. He stuck his foot into the door gap. "I'm not soliciting!" he yelled. "Ahem. Excuse me. I'm here to see Natalia."

The young man – boy, really, he couldn't have been much above twenty – raised his eyebrows. "Oh, are you now? And for what reason?"

Alfred's mind was spinning. Was this her new boyfriend? Or – or _was this the father of the child?_ He didn't know whether to be sick, or flirt with the guy! "That's between me and her," he said bravely, giving this kid the not-so-surreptitious once-over. Good-looking, yes, but in a totally pansy way, he ultimately concluded. And then the boy gave him an insincere smile, exposing a creepy fanglike tooth. "Please just go get her?" Alfred asked. Politely. He didn't want Natalia to find out he'd been impolite. It might make his case more difficult to win.

Funny how he often thought of her in legal terms, these days.

After a moment, the still-grinning younger man opened the door and allowed Alfred entrance. "Wait here," he said, padding off in bare feet.

Alfred took a good look at him as he walked away, and damn if the kid wasn't fine. Slender and firm…Pansy or not, it was no wonder Natalia had him around. He lost focus for a moment, watching that jean-clad ass saunter out of the room.

When the boy had vanished from view, Alfred turned his attention to the brownstone. She'd definitely put the money to good use. High ceilings, acres of marble, brass appointments everywhere, china and crystal and beautiful hand-carved wood ornamentation –

But the _child!_ he reminded himself. _Focus!_

Ten seconds later he heard Natalia's high, crazy laughter, and turned away from the fireplace (in the foyer!) to face his ex-lover. Wearing another of her skintight minidresses and perilously high heels, she looked like a few million bucks. Maybe she'd had her hair dyed, or a facelift.

"Hello, you," she said, still laughing and tap-tap-tapping across the wide entrance hall. "What are you doing here?"

He could see the young man hovering in the background. Alfred didn't really want to talk to her while they were being watched, but he was in the supplicant position here, so he did. "I'm – I'm so sorry you had to go through all this alone," he began, using the deeper and more serious voice that he knew she liked. (It was certainly deeper than the other guy's. Hah!) "If you'd only said something, I'd never have let you go." He took her hand and held it.

Natalia's amusement faded. "Alfred?" she asked him quietly.

"Oh, Natalia. You know I would never abandon my responsibilities!" He swept her into a big embrace, patting her on the back.

"Alfred," she repeated weakly, "let go. I can't breathe!" He let go and stood back, taking her hands. "What are you – _oh!_" she said, and to his astonishment she turned bright red and lifted a hand to her mouth. "You – oh!" This time she threw herself into his arms, and as he held her (smirking slightly at the blond guy, who was still peeking around the corner of a door jamb) he could feel her beginning to cry.

"Shh, shh, it's all right, it's all right," he crooned to her repeatedly, holding her in the spacious lobby of her home. "It's all right. I'll make it all right, Natalia, I will." He supported her with one hand while rubbing the other up and down her back.

"This is about the – the baby, isn't it?" she asked him, drawing back and wiping her eyes.

"Of course it is! How could I stand by and let this happen? Why didn't you tell me? Where is he?" Alfred looked around. Maybe the child would come out to greet him? Sense a special link?

Or maybe not. "Uh. I – I am the father, right?" he asked her, somewhat nervously.

She walked to the door leading to another room. "Come in here and discuss it with me. I don't want to talk about it out in the foyer."

He nodded and followed her. He was boiling inside, boiling with nerves. What if the – the baby had died? Alfred felt as though he'd faint, at that thought. He stopped in the middle of the room, waiting for her to close the big door and join him.

Natalia took his arm and led him to the couch. "Vladimir doesn't need to hear this," she explained.

"That your new boyfriend?" Well, he couldn't help himself. The blond was so fine that he wondered whether he, Alfred, appeared unattractive by contrast. Yes, he was fiercely jealous.

"Sort of," she said absently. Perhaps her mind was on the child. "Please sit."

They sat down and he put his arm around her again. "Why didn't you tell me? I had to hear it from Lovino, of all people! Even Katia didn't tell me."

Then he decided not to speak, in case he made things worse. There were so many ways this conversation could go, and none of them were good.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. She took his hands and gazed at him with her clear dark blue eyes. "There is no baby."

"It – it died? Oh, my God, Natalia," he wailed, pulling her into another embrace. "And you went through all this without me? That's either very brave or very stupid." He couldn't have stopped himself saying that.

"N-no, listen." She pushed him away. "There never was any baby, Alfred. How could you think I'd be so irresponsible, so _stupid,_ as to get pregnant out of wedlock?" Now she sounded like her old self. "And then to skip town without telling you? Are you crazy? I would never have done that. And even if I did, my idiot sister would have been pestering you long before this. She didn't say anything because there was nothing to say!" Her scowling face turned away from him; she looked down at her fingers, clenched in her lap. "I made it all up. I was going to pretend it was true, to get you to marry me." She sighed. "I wrote that stupid letter to Lovino first, and as soon as I mailed it I realized how stupid it was, so I figured the only way to get out of the situation was to leave town. I knew in my heart you wouldn't be marrying me – after all my prodding and asking, and you still saying no – so it didn't seem like anyone would be hurt. How could I know he'd decide to tell you about that letter? Just how long did it take you to work up your nerve to come up here?"

Alfred felt sick to his stomach again, but this time with anger. "You are the most manipulative bitch that I ever met. You actually made that all up?" But then he broke down, unwanted tears forming in his eyes. "Don't you know how miserable you have made me?"

"You'll get over it," she snapped. "Why did he tell you?"

"Ran into him in the city yesterday. It's the first time I've seen him since that Christmas party at his winery. He con-congratulated me and hoped you and the baby were well." Alfred narrowed his eyes.

"So your net time of being miserable is less than twenty-four hours," she snorted. "Big fucking deal."

Alfred stood up. "I'm not surprised at all this. It's so typical of you. I wish you well, here in New York, with your big fancy house and your fancy boy-toy and all this money. I'm damned glad I never said yes to you. I'd be _fucking miserable,_ dude!"

Natalia sneered at him. "You can show yourself out. _Dude._"

"Fine. Don't contact me again." He headed towards the door.

"Why would I want to? Loser!" Her high laughter echoed behind him as he yanked the library door open and strode back into the foyer.

The blond young man was waiting there. "I hope you're happy," Alfred snapped.

"She's difficult," the boyfriend admitted. "I heard what she said. I'm sorry you were hurt."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry too, man." Alfred yanked open the front door. "Best of luck with the old bitch," he said, somewhat unheroically, before storming down the steps.

…

_The artist in the chapter title just happened to have a Belarussian mother. Seemed like a good sign._

_I'm going to wrap up Alfred/Natalia in the next chapter and then close this story out. I'm just not interested in continuing with it. Thanks for all your support, though. Do you think it would make sense to remove this story and post the chapters at the end of "Life Sketches"?_


	8. The Triumph of Love

**The Triumph of Love.** (Titian, oil on panel, 1540s)

The next day Alfred headed to Mattie's place, just to get his head clear. He'd spent all last night thinking about this situation, and what it all boiled down to was that he was in exactly the same position he'd been three days ago – Natalia was out of his life, he had no hidden obligations, everything was cool. In a way he was glad it had worked out this way. It had definitely shown him that he'd been right to refuse Natalia's old offers of marriage, and his life would have been much weirder if they'd had a baby together!

Matt was in a good mood, so he let Alfred hang around, watching TV and eating snacks while he did his work in the office. Katia, nearing her due date, was now on bed rest, so periodically one or both of the men would go check and make sure she was all right and didn't need anything.

This time it was Alfred's turn; he sat in the bedside chair and told her some stories to amuse her. He could tell she wasn't really attending, but it made him feel better to sit with her and make the effort. It made him feel that he really was part of a family.

Through his words he heard the doorbell ring; Katia didn't seem to have heard it. She laid back, her face peaceful, and watched Alfred with a smile.

Just as he reached the conclusion of the story about how he'd once skied down Greek Peak without poles, culminating in a fancy 360-degree stop and the applause of admiring onlookers (and yes, he'd stretched a few points just to make the story more interesting), his twin came to the bedroom door. "Al?"

"Yeah, what?"

"There's – someone here to see you," Matthew said uncertainly.

"Not – not Natalia, is it?" He must have sounded scared; Katia burst into merry laughter.

"No. It's a man. I don't know him."

"Not Artie? Gilbert?"

"Al, I said I didn't know him! I know those two. And no, it's not Lovino or Mathias, either." At these heated words of her husband's, Katia started giggling again, and Matthew's expression softened as he looked at her. "Just go down and talk to him. I don't even know what he wants."

"Where is he?"

"In the living room."

Bemused, Alfred walked slowly down the stairs, leaving the lovebirds alone in the bedroom.

Matthew had bought one of Arthur's paintings, back when he'd purchased the gallery; the stranger stood examining it, with his back to Alfred. Huh. He didn't recognize the guy either. Tousled blond hair, dark clothes, awesome cowboy boots – no, _focus, Alfred_, he told himself. After he found out who it was, he could ask about the boots.

Maybe it was Feliks? But no. Mattie knew him too.

"Hello?" Alfred said, sounding more confused than he liked to come across.

The stranger turned and smiled at him, exposing a fanglike tooth that immediately identified him to Alfred. "Hello."

"Oh, my God, she didn't send you here to – to _fetch_ me, did she?" He panicked.

Natalia's boyfriend laughed quietly. "No. Nothing to do with Natalia."

"Wait. Why are you – how did you – you – uh?" This was the best Alfred could do. What was he doing here? And damn, he almost looked better in his clothes than he had the other day, shirtless.

"I'm glad I found you. Will you come outside for a walk with me? We can talk as we walk?" He smiled again, very sweetly, and Alfred decided on the spot that his fang was not actually creepy at all.

Hah. Not as if Al would be in any danger from him. He could easily, _easily_ fight this kid, if he tried anything funny. "S-sure. Let me get my coat." He threw on his bomber jacket, bellowing up the stairs, "Hey, _Mattie! _I'm going out for a walk!"

"Whatever," his brother called back, making the other guy laugh a little more.

"Your name is Vladimir?" he asked, once they were outside.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He shook Alfred's hand with a grin. "I know your name's Alfred."

"Alfred F. Jones," he replied proudly. "What are you doing here, if she didn't send you?" Because this was very weird.

"I know this is going to sound, well, it's not going to sound good," Vladimir admitted, scratching his head and dislodging his little hat. He fixed it before continuing to speak. "Uh, well, I have been thinking about leaving her, for a while now, but it was so – so – "

"Comfortable?" Alfred suggested with a laugh.

"Good enough. The big house, dining out all the time, you know."

"I do know."

"After what I heard her say to you, I knew it was time to go." Vladimir stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. "But I didn't know where to go. I have a little money, but I never really liked New York much. I wanted to go somewhere new and interesting."

"Oh, well, Washington's interesting. I can help you find a place, if that's what you were thinking."

"Ah, well, sort of. I asked her how I could get in touch with you, and she gave me her sister's address. I guess it was just dumb luck that you were there? Natalia said she didn't know where you were living."

"Yeah, Katia's going to have a baby soon, so I come over sometimes to help around the house."

"I hope it wasn't a problem that I showed up."

Alfred scowled a little. "Not really." This is all the kid wanted? Help finding a place to live? He hoped so. He knew he wouldn't be able to find him a job anywhere. Certainly not working for Matthew; he still wouldn't even give his own twin brother a job! But maybe Lovino had some openings at the winery – but that would be a very long commute –

Here he realized that Vladimir had kept speaking, and now glared at him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you totally ignoring me? Maybe I should go back to New York. Pfft."

"Why did you come here?" Well, Alfred meant _here to Mattie's house_, but it could also mean _here to Washington._

"I – I liked you," Vladimir stammered. "I thought it was...very…heroic?...of you, to come to Natalia when you found out about this baby, even though it turned out not to be real. You were willing to do what was right, even though you must have known what a bitch she is."

Alfred nodded. Heroic, yeah! He almost did a fist pump.

"I don't like living a sneaky, manipulative life, like I did with her, always having to watch what I say, to spend all my time in flattery and servitude. I – I – I'm sure you're not gay, if you were sleeping with her, and I never really thought I was gay either, but I can't get you out of my head, and I don't know if that's because of the way you look or the way you acted." Vladimir tucked his chin down as they strode along. "But I thought maybe we could at least be friends. I'd like to have a friend like you."

The hero's head was reeling. He stopped walking; Vladimir kept going, but stopped when he realized Alfred hadn't followed. "You're serious?"

Vladimir's face was red. "Yes, I am," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if that offends you. I thought you might be – be unconventional enough to accept me that way."

But this, _this_ Alfred could deal with. He walked right up to Vladimir and took his hands. "Well, you were right and you were wrong. I'm not gay, but I am bisexual. And yeah, I was rude to you the other day, but I was really jealous about you raising my child, as I thought. But – but when you opened that door, I almost forgot why I'd come to New York. You're beautiful." His heart was racing, and he knew he was blushing, too.

"Wh-what does that actually all mean?" the younger man asked.

"Well." Alfred thought about this. "I would like to get to know you better. As a friend or as a boyfriend, whichever you like. If you say you're straight, though, I'd never pressure you into anything. If you want to move down here, I can help you find a place to live, and we can be friends, and then just see what happens?" Argh, he felt like an idiot. He dropped Vladimir's hands, not sure whether that was really appropriate or not. What had happened to all his suave phrases, all that kind of romantic shit he used to say to Artie?

But – but with Artie, it was never like this. He'd always felt himself dominant with Artie. But this ethereal blond boy could trample all over him and Alfred wouldn't even care. "Oh! How old are you?" the hero asked in a panic.

"Twenty-two. Why? Do I look like jail bait?" They laughed together. "I think I'd like to move here and see what happens," Vladimir finally told him. "I'm ready for a real life adventure."

"Awesome," Alfred laughed. "Where do we start?"

"Why not start right here?" Vladimir reached out and took his hand again, and they walked, and Alfred smiled into the bright spring day.

…

_Titian's "Triumph of Love" shows a big golden lion being vanquished by Cupid._

_Okay! I have a new ship. And I promise you…for the rest of 2013, I will not make Alfred a dick in any story, and I will only give him good happy times. I did a drawing of them (nation-style, not AU-style) on my dA account._

_However, I'm going to end this sequel here. Hope you enjoyed it!_


End file.
